


Positive Reinforcement

by Neyiea



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bruce is trying so hard to train his boys into not being criminals, Face-Sitting, M/M, Overstimulation, With special attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: Bruce has been attempting positive reinforcement so as to decrease the amount of senseless crime in his city carried out by the twins who are obsessed with him.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Jerome Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 19
Kudos: 200





	Positive Reinforcement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miIkobitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miIkobitch/gifts).



> Well, friend, thanks for being around to sling ideas with me and also for letting me send you walls of text as I binge watch Shameless. :)

The clock strikes midnight.

Bruce stares up at him, wonder evident in his eyes.

Jeremiah scowls at him, already clearly jealous.

Jerome, for his part, feels himself smile wider than he ever has as his heart begins to race and his blood begins to run hot.

“One week without killing someone,” he chimes happily. “A whole new record. You know what that means, Brucie.”

Jeremiah hisses a breath out through his teeth and Bruce averts his eyes, face already starting to flush. 

Bruce has been not-at-all subtly trying to Pavlov them both into good behaviour. Haven’t murdered for two days? Here, I’ll give you a kiss and let you give me a hickey. Haven’t blown up any buildings or started any fires for four days? Would you rather come in my mouth or on my chest? Jerome and Jeremiah can’t lay off the crimes forever but when they know that there are special rewards waiting for them they do—occasionally—lay low and, as Bruce would put it during his more heated moments, ‘calm the fuck down’.

Jerome has never gone a full week without committing some kind of crime. Frankly his last record for not committing murder had been three days and Bruce had been so ecstatic that they’d made out for a good fifteen minutes before Jeremiah, the asshole, decided to cut in on Jerome’s time. Jerome still hasn’t forgiven him for that.

He’d made a very special request of Bruce a few weeks ago; something he’s been dreaming of, something he wants even more than fucking Bruce, something that Jeremiah has no idea about because there was no way Jerome was going to let him in on the idea so that he could try and do it first. 

Bruce had been startled and embarrassed and unbelievably cute, and the first dozen times Jerome had mentioned it the answer had been a very quick, very flustered ‘no’. But Jerome was incredibly stubborn, and Bruce probably hadn’t believed that Jerome had it in him to more than double his previous no-murder streak, so he had—after much gentle coaxing and soft kisses and sweet promises and puppy-dog-eyes and a blowjob that left him shaking as his hands dug into red hair—eventually agreed to it.

Jerome offers out a hand and Bruce inhales sharply, eyes darting up to meet his before he slowly takes it. Jerome tugs him close, swiftly wrapping Bruce up in his arms, and he can practically hear Jeremiah’s possessive nature awaken full-force.

Too bad. Jerome isn’t going to let him interrupt this time. 

He’s got something to make sure of it.

“You’re going to like it, I promise,” he whispers in Bruce’s ear. “I’m going to make it so good for you.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Bruce murmurs against his neck. “It’s going to be so embarrassing.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Jeremiah’s icy voice cuts between them. He and Jerome have a sort-of understanding where they don’t actively try to kill each other anymore and they share Bruce’s affection, but neither of them particularly liked to share and there was always a lingering jealously directed solely at each other—never ever at Bruce—when Bruce was paying more attention to one over the other. “And I feel the need to point out that I have made it six days without murder, so I deserve something, too.”

“After,” Jerome tells him snidely, running a hand through Bruce’s hair and grinning at the glare being sent his way. “Why don’t you get on the bed, if you’re so fucking impatient?”

Against his chest Bruce jolts.

“Jerome,” Bruce hisses under his breath as Jeremiah begins to unbutton his shirt, anger practically rolling off of him in waves at the implication that he’s going to have to wait his turn for once in his goddamn life. “Are you really going to let him watch? I thought you were kidding about that.”

“I do not kid when it comes to this, Bruce.” Jerome presses a soft kiss to Bruce’s curls, eyes darting over to where Jeremiah is starting to crawl onto the bed, seating himself at the headboard and pouting like an impatient child. “I’m going to turn you into a pretty little mess.” And Jeremiah is going to go crazy because it’s going to be Jerome, not him, making Bruce squirm and flush and cry. “And Jeremiah isn’t going to be able to do anything about it.”

He moves quickly.

A handcuff here, a dodged punch there, a not-quite-as-successfully dodged punch, and another handcuff later Jeremiah is pinned to the headboard, legs kicking, already trying to jerk himself free as his eyes flare and his lips twist into a snarl. 

“Undo these,” he commands sharply, but Jerome has no interest in following his demands, ever.

“You’ve got to learn how to wait for your turn, Miah,” Jerome taunts mercilessly. He gentles when he turns to Bruce, who looks struck and self-conscious before they’ve even gotten started. Jerome slips off of the bed to kiss him, running his hands through his hair and sighing against his mouth until Bruce begins to relax. They slowly begin to strip each other, and Jerome doesn’t have to look to know that Jeremiah is flipping wildly between glaring at him and staring at Bruce with hearts in his eyes.

Once they’re naked Jerome guides him up onto the bed; kissing, kissing, kissing, soft and sweet to keep Bruce nice and calm. Jerome’s fingers graze down Bruce’s ribs, and he can’t hold back the chuckle as he hears the chink of Jeremiah’s restraints being tested once again. The sound intensifies when Bruce gasps at the feeling of Jerome’s hand closing around his cock. 

Jerome presses his lips all across Bruce’s face, down his neck, over his shoulders. Jerome grazes his teeth against him just to hear Bruce’s breath hitch.

“Are you ready, darlin’,” he croons in Bruce’s ear as his thumb drags across Bruce’s weeping slit. “Are you ready to give me my special reward for good behaviour?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce whispers against him, his fingers twitching restlessly in Jerome’s hair. “I hope so, but I don’t know.”

“If you don’t like it you can tell me to stop, but let’s give it a try first, okay? I’ve been thinking about this the entire week. Frankly it’s the only reason why I didn’t run off yesterday to kill the guy who was obviously trying to cop a feel on the subway.”

Bruce pulls back, a slight smile gracing the edge of his mouth. Jerome stares at him; doe eyes, flushed cheeks, mussed hair, prettier than anything Jerome has ever seen, and thinks that his request for his next record-breaking streak is going to be asking to film this so that he can actually watch Bruce’s expression as Jerome goes to town on him. 

“I was very proud of you for that,” Bruce tells him softly, darting up on his knees to press a kiss to Jerome’s cheek. 

“Bruce,” Jeremiah cuts in, tone a barely put-together whine. “ _Bruce_ , darling.”

“I’m sorry, Miah,” Bruce apologizes, heartfelt. “I’ll kiss you after, okay?”

Jerome darts a glance to the side just so that he can see Jeremiah’s hopeful face twist. Jeremiah catches him looking and the vicious look he sends Jerome’s way makes him want to laugh, but he holds it back because Bruce is already way too flustered to handle more laughter of any kind happening around him right now, even if it’s not directed at him.

Jerome kisses him one last time, then he begins to lean back.

“Wait—which, which way should I face?” Bruce grips at his fingers tightly before Jerome is fully laid down.

“The door.” And, subsequently, his cock. “That way you can see how much I’m enjoying myself.” Jerome winks and gives Bruce’s fingers a playful squeeze before his back hits the bed.

The restrains clink again. Jeremiah probably thinks that Jerome’s asked Bruce to ride him, which… Isn’t entirely incorrect. Close, but not quite right. 

“Come on, Brucie,” Jerome croons up at him as Bruce slowly begins to edge closer. “I want you to sit on my face, darlin’.”

Bruce blushes to the roots of his hair at Jerome’s appeal being stated so openly.

The jingling of the handcuffs abruptly stops. 

“Okay,” Bruce breathes, crawling over to him. “Okay.” He darts down to press one last kiss to Jerome’s mouth, and then he unsteadily swings a thigh over Jerome’s head, his trembling knees brushing the outsides of Jerome’s upper arms. Jerome reaches for him, the angle a little strange, but he runs his hands up and down the front of Bruce’s thighs while he presses a kiss to the backs of each.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

He’s been ready since before Bruce even agreed to it.

He can hear Bruce inhale shakily, trying to find his nerve, and then finally, finally—

Jerome tilts his chin to drag his tongue against Bruce and feels him shiver above him. His fingers press harder into the skin of Bruce’s thighs to urge him down lower, lower, and Bruce follows the direction wordlessly, no doubt still beautifully red in the face, until he’s practically right where Jerome wants him. Jerome laves his tongue against Bruce’s cleft a few more times to get him used to it, because he doesn’t want Bruce lurching away immediately. It’s only after he feels Bruce start to relax that he traces a firm circle around the rim.

“Oh,” Bruce gasps above him, shifting slightly. “Oh.”

The clink of the handcuffs starts back up again.

“Jerome you had better let me out of these _right fucking now_ —”

Jerome tunes Jeremiah’s snarling out as he swirls a narrow circle over clenched muscle before dragging the entire flat of his tongue against it. He leans his head back so that he can kiss Bruce there, too, and he loves that he can feel Bruce’s entire body jerk above him.

“You okay, darlin’?” He turns, just a little, so that he can briefly dig his teeth into one of Bruce’s cheeks. Bruce curses breathlessly. Jeremiah curses louder and with a lot more anger. 

“I—I’m okay.” He still sounds embarrassed, and he’s squirming over Jerome’s face in a way that’s absolutely going to drive him crazier than he already is, but Bruce was nothing if not determined to see his promises through. “You can keep going.”

Jerome shifts underneath him, cock already hard from the little that they’ve done so far and the promise of more, and he devotedly drags his tongue across Bruce again just to hear him sigh pleasantly, just to feel the way he starts to move before stopping himself, like he wants to rock down against Jerome’s tongue but is far too self-conscious to let himself do it. For now, anyway. Jerome draws another slick circle before the very tip of his tongue begins to press inside.

Above him Bruce freezes, then—

“Jerome,” he whines.

Jerome digs his fingers into Bruce’s thighs and forces him down as far as he can.

x-x-x

One of Bruce’s hands settles over Jerome’s, the other reaches out to press against Jerome’s firm chest for support as he shivers and jolts at the feeling of Jerome’s tongue licking into him. His face is burning and his breath is coming in shallow pants, and he can’t believe that he agreed to this just as much as he can’t believe how good it feels.

“Jerome,” he utters, eyes fluttering shut when Jerome’s tongue curls before withdrawing to teasingly lap against him. “Oh my god.”

Even with his eyes shut it’s impossible to forget that he’s currently being watched, and that he’s been watched ever since this started almost ten minutes ago. 

Jeremiah is still struggling against the handcuffs like he actually believes that he’ll be able to get out of them if he tries hard enough. His voice is a snarl whenever he speaks to Jerome, who very obviously is not listening to him in the least. When he speaks to Bruce, though, his voice shifts to openly adoring.

“Bruce, darling, darling, you’re so beautiful,” he praises.

“Jerome, I’m going to steal every goddamn knife you own and throw them all into the fucking river,” he threatens.

Jerome’s chest rumbles with what Bruce assumes is laughter, and then his tongue delves deeper. 

Bruce whimpers, unable to keep himself from starting to push back against Jerome’s tongue even though he catches himself and freezes before he’s able to complete the motion, and underneath him Jerome makes a pleased sound as if that’s what he’s been waiting for this entire time. Bruce’s eyes drift partially open, vision hazy, and he casts a glance to the side to see Jeremiah staring at him, disheveled and hungry, his cock obviously hard in his slacks. When Jeremiah notices him looking he surges forward again, metal dragging against the already reddening skin of his wrists.

“Bruce, Bruce, I can make you feel good too, I can make you feel even better. Let me out of these, darling, let me take care of you.”

“Mm—Miah, I can—” Jerome’s tongue circles inside of him and he squeals, both hands coming over his mouth as if to push the sound back inside as he burns even hotter. “I can’t, I can’t,” he cries, his legs shaking on either side of Jerome’s head as he fights the urge to grind down on him. “Jerome, Jerome.”

Underneath him Jerome shifts, moaning, so obviously into the act of bringing Bruce pleasure. His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach and Bruce can’t seem to stop looking at it, mouth watering even though there’s no way he’s coordinated enough to suck Jerome off right now. He huffs an unsteady breath into his hands before they drop away from his face. One braces against Jerome’s chest again, the other reaches further down to wrap around Jerome's cock.

Jerome presses a wet, sloppy kiss against him and Bruce’s mind begins to buzz with cycling thoughts about Jerome’s drooling dick and his drooling mouth and the filthy, pleased sounds that he keeps making. Jerome’s tongue drives inside of him again and Bruce’s hand clenches around him as he gives in to the urge to push himself against Jerome even though he’s still distantly mortified by it. 

Jerome's cock twitches in his jerkily moving fist. Jerome moans and licks into him like he can’t get enough.

“Bruce, Bruce, my darling, look at me, look at me, I want to see you.”

Bruce mewls, shaking his head, thighs beginning to burn as he rises and falls, impaling himself on Jerome’s ceaselessly curling tongue. It flicks against his rim as it retreats, and Jerome kisses him again before pressing the flat against Bruce’s cleft and letting him desperately press himself against it before it slips back inside even deeper than before.

“Jerome, you’re making me feel so good, please don’t stop.”

His heart is pounding so hard he almost can’t hear Jeremiah snarling. 

Jerome’s cock in his hand, Jerome’s hands on his thighs, Jerome’s tongue in his ass. Bruce feels his muscles start to clench as heat pools low inside of him. He begins to rock, quick and shallow, and Jerome’s nails begin to dig into him.

“Jerome, Jerome, I’m close, don’t stop.”

Jerome’s tongue drives into him and his lower teeth scrape against sensitive, blood-flushed skin.

Bruce comes with a wail, riding Jerome’s face until overstimulated tears begin to prick at his eyes, then he leans forward, trembling, to take the head of Jerome’s cock into his mouth.

Underneath him Jerome shakes as he comes, his nails breaking the skin on Bruce’s thighs and dragging red lines all the way down to his knees. 

Bruce is spent. Bruce is slack.

There’s a soft click. Metal shifts against metal. Fabric rustles.

“Bruce, darling.”

A hand threads through his hair. A kiss is pressed to the corner of his mouth. Bruce warbles softly as his eyes open to meet Jeremiah’s, his pupils so swollen that his irises are almost fully black. 

“I’m going to make you come even harder than he did.”

x-x-x

Bruce is so beautiful, so perfect, so sweet as he squirms in pleasure.

But, unforgivably, it isn’t Jeremiah making him flush and cry and feel good.

He threatens and he praises and he’s just about ready to beg by the time Bruce comes, because he’s so painfully hard that he thinks the barest touch could possibly set him off before he even has a chance to get out of his pants. The sight of Bruce unraveling punches the breath out of his lungs. He’s so caught up by the sight of Bruce in the aftermath, beautifully relaxed and prettily pink, that he almost doesn’t react when Jerome lets him out of the cuffs.

Then, of course, he realizes that he’s out of the cuffs. Which means he finally gets to touch Bruce again.

“You learn how to be patient and wait your turn yet?”

Jeremiah scowls at his brother, and if it weren’t for how much he was aching to make Bruce feel even better than Jerome had made him feel he’d start a fight. Instead he goes to Bruce, he kisses him, he makes a promise that he fully intends to keep. He leaves lipstick stains all over Bruce’s mouth and cheeks as his hands undo his belt and unzip his slacks. The red fades with each successive kiss, and Jeremiah makes sure that the last smudge is lovingly imprinted over Bruce’s heart.

“You look so pretty with my marks on you,” Jeremiah tells him fervently, legs astride Bruce’s scratched and bleeding thighs. “Bruce, darling, I’m going to mark you up inside, too.”

“Miah,” Bruce murmurs softly, contentedly. His eyes snap open, glossy and gorgeous, when Jeremiah rubs a palm against his soft, sensitive dick. “Fuck, fuck, oh my god.”

“It’s okay, Bruce, I’m going to make you feel so good.” Jeremiah sucks two of his fingers into his own mouth before his other hand reaches down, smoothly pressing all the way up inside of Bruce. Bruce lurches and jerks underneath him, squirming onto his fingers and against his hand, unable to further himself from Jeremiah no matter which direction he goes. “I’m going to make you forget all about those fifteen terrible minutes where I wasn’t able to touch you.”

“Unlikely,” Jerome says from off to the side. Jeremiah ignores him. 

“Jeremiah,” Bruce whines, his hands coming up to dig into Jeremiah’s forearms. “I don’t think I can come again so soon.”

“But I can still make you feel so, so wonderful,” Jeremiah tells him lovingly as he slides a third finger inside. “And I’m going to. I was patient, Bruce. I waited. I waited just for you, and without even threatening to murder the person who dared to keep me away from you, but I need to have you now, darling. Seeing you like that; how could I possibly resist you?”

“Miah.” Bruce’s hands creep up his arms, onto his shoulders. Jeremiah can’t not kiss him when he’s looking up at him like that, already teary eyed and flushed just from Jeremiah touching him.

He drags his lips across Bruce’s red, smeared mouth and crooks his fingers as his hand withdraws. He grinds his palm against Bruce as he settles between Bruce’s legs, stopping only so that he can grip onto Bruce’s hips with both hands.

“Look at me,” he breathes, and Bruce’s watery eyes lock onto him as Jeremiah thrusts all the way inside of him.

He’s wet and hot and tight and absolutely perfect, his back arcs and his mouth falls open with a sweet, sweet sound and Jeremiah’s hands on Bruce’s hips keep him locked in place, twitching and shuddering and full.

“Jeremiah,” Bruce calls, hands coming up to cover his hot face.

“No, no, you have to look at me Bruce. I need to see you. You need to see me.” He reaches up with one hand to drag one of Bruce’s away, interlocking their fingers and pinning it into the sheets beside Bruce’s head. He rocks into him, unable to help himself, and he catches the flickering of Bruce’s expression behind his splayed fingers. “Bruce, darling, I want to watch you come undone for me.” Jeremiah’s other hand drags over Bruce’s hipbone, his knuckles grazing against hypersensitive flesh. Bruce’s free hand reaches up, grips into his hair and pulls hard, staring up at Jeremiah with eyes that could command him to do almost anything. 

Jeremiah rocks into him and feels Bruce’s cock twitch, watches Bruce’s eyelashes flutter, sees his glossy eyes go wide as Jeremiah drives into him and touches him relentlessly. 

“Miah, please.”

Jeremiah leans down and kisses him again, open mouthed and slick. He holds Bruce’s hand and rubs against his cock and fucks into him until Bruce starts to make the cutest, most delicate noises in the back of his throat, muffled by Jeremiah’s hungry mouth. Bruce’s hand twists deeper into his hair and he holds Jeremiah closer, closer, until his legs start shaking and he tries to pull back so that he can tuck his face into Jeremiah’s neck, but Jeremiah can’t let him do that. 

Jeremiah has to see his face. 

He pulls away instead, one hand digging into Bruce’s curls to keep him from trying to turn away, the other bracing his weight against the bed as he grinds into Bruce, desperate and hot and close. 

Bruce's wet eyes overflow, his lips part, his entire body shudders. He’s so beautiful, he’s so unequaled, he’s Jeremiah’s precious sweetheart and Jeremiah is going to make him see stars.

“Bruce, darling, look at me, keep looking at me.” His hand drops down again, stroking Bruce until his body seizes and clenches, curling in on itself. “Look and see just who’s making you feel like this.”

“Miah—ahh, fuck, fuck. I think—I think—” Bruce’s muscles flutter and clench. He gasps, wordless.

Jeremiah comes inside of him and kisses him again, smearing the red he’d left behind more and more as Bruce’s shaking legs go still and his body goes from brief periods of jolting tension to a lasting, gentle slackness. 

When Jeremiah pulls back Bruce’s gaze is blissed out, pink cheeks wet from overstimulated tears, breaths quick and shallow. Jeremiah runs a hand through his curls and devotedly leans in to press another doting kiss to his forehead. When he pulls back Jeremiah becomes suddenly aware of the sound of slow clapping.

Bruce immediately covers his burning face with his hands.

“Jerome, please.”

“Jerome, I will destroy you.”

The clapping stops.


End file.
